


Truth or Dare

by nerdiekatie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Asexual Adam (Voltron), Asexual Character, Asexual Shiro (Voltron), Fluff, Getting Together, Jewish Adam (Voltron), M/M, Party, Truth or Dare, it's not really a plot point but he is so there, they have FRIENDS at the Garrison fite me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 18:59:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16101791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdiekatie/pseuds/nerdiekatie
Summary: “Do you like Shiro? Like, like-like him?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows embarrassingly.Adam presses his face into his hands and groans. Everyone is invested in his love life tonight.





	Truth or Dare

Adam is staring at his closet when his phone rings. He picks it up, still absentmindedly debating the merits of jeans versus slacks.

“Hello.”

“Shiro won’t go without hearing directly from you about being invited to the party, even though I told him he was invited so here-“

There’s a moment of silence as Matt transfers the phone to whoever and Adam tries to get his bearings after being verbally bombarded.

“Hello?” a soft voice asks. “This is Takashi Shirogane. I’m calling to confirm about the party tonight…?”

Adam coughs. Or squeaks. He’s not sure.

“Oh yeah.” He tries to play it off as a laugh. A not-nervous laugh. A confident laugh. He’s got this. (He doesn’t got this.) “Yeah. You’re invited. For sure.” Adam nods vigorously even though Shiro can’t see him.

“Okay,” Shiro says, and his voice sounds so warm, Adam wants to melt. “I just… had to check, you know? It’s not that I don’t trust Matt-“ Adam can tell he directs his voice at him- “ I just figure it’s polite to make sure that I’ve actually been invited.

“I’m sorry about him, by the way,” he continues. “I know he was brusque before he handed the phone off.”

Adam waves it off. “I’m used to it.”

“I know,” Shiro says, his voice sounding… fond? Could that be right? “Matt’s told me you’ve been a good friend to him this semester.”

Adam feels his face go from warm to supernova. “Oh, well. Matt’s… uh… been a good friend to me, so I couldn’t not, you know? Anyway, I-“

Down the line, Shiro chuckles. “I want to thank you anyway. He’s one of my best friends, and I was worried about how he’d do alone at U Plaht. I’ll see you tonight.”

He hangs up. Adam sits down, clutching his phone. He looks back at his closet and calls his sister.

Abby laughs at him.

“Oh, Shiro’s coming?” she teases. “Is that the one with the nice smile who’s been giving you private lessons?”

Adam protests. “He’s the TA! It’s his job!”

“Mm hmm,” Abby says skeptically. “The same TA you overheard talking about talking about your hands?”

Adam groans into the phone. “Yes.”

“You like him. You know he likes you. I don’t see what the problem is here.”

“The problem is… I’m nervous,” Adam admits.

Abby laughs some more. Rude.

“Okay, little brother-“

“I’m older,” Adam mumbles.

“Not important,” Abby continues. “Wear jeans. Dark wash. I know you have them. And that dark green shirt if you still have it, too. You’re-“

“Autumn toned,” he interrupts. He’s only heard Mama say it a thousand times.

Abby changes her tack to soothing. “Then you’ve got this. Sweep him off his feet. Love you!”

Adam tells her he loves her, too, and they hang up. He stands in front of his closet again. He can do this.

Once he’s dressed, he goes out to the kitchen to make sure everything’s ready. It’s a small party. Only six people are coming, so it’s really more of a gathering. But they’re celebrating the end of the semester before the winter break and there’s alcohol, so he guesses that it counts as a party.

He checks on the beer, cider, and wine- all appropriately chilled with clean glasses. There’s soda in case anyone doesn’t want to drink. He sets out the snacks- chex mix, fruit with cheese, and chips with salsa- and meticulously straightens a pile of napkins and plates.

He doesn’t really know what they’re going to do. Adam has Cards Against Humanity, Maryam has Legend of Zelda, so at least they have options, but Adam has never been great at unstructured social events.

He fiddles with the napkins some more and tries to iron out his thoughts. These are all people he knows. Maryam is his roommate; they both share a biology class and GGROTC with Matt. Yelena and Xiao Dan he knows exclusively through the Unofficial Galaxy Garrison Gay Straight Alliance, but they’re nice.

Shiro is his TA. _Was_ his TA, he reminds himself. The semester is over. And, he won’t have any classes with him as a TA next semester. Which means that they would be free from any ethical obligations if they wanted to be friends.

Or something other than friends.

Adam saw plenty of him in class, but that was just looking. And Shiro looked great, with his soft looking hair that fell across his forehead attractively, and his steel grey eyes that somehow managed to look warm, or his hands that looked like they would be nice and broad and strong holding his hands.

But, it was the parts of Shiro Adam saw outside of class that made him want to know him better. The parts that were endlessly patient with the new pilots just as old as him who were crashing sims that he broke the record for years ago. (Adam only knew Shiro broke the record because Dr. Singh talked about it. Not Shiro.) He wasn’t condescending, either. Just kind.

The parts that Adam saw in UGGGSA where he laughed with Yelena and Matt and made bad jokes about dying before he finished his essays.

Adam is caught in a fantasy about Shiro laughing at a joke Adam told over a candlelight dinner when Maryam interrupts his napkin-fiddling.

“Do you have anything on under that shirt?” she asks.

Adam nods, unsure of why she asked.

“You want to make a good impression for Shiro, right? That’s why you’re so nervous?”

Adam nods again, afraid that his tongue will betray him and start talking about how handsomely Shiro’s eyes would sparkle in the candlelight.

“Then you should unbutton your shirt,” she says. “And roll up your sleeves. That’s always a good look.”

Adam looks at her doubtfully. He has only been doing Garrison PT for six months. Compared to Shiro, he is scrawny as a stick.

Maryam makes a face back at him, then busies herself getting a glass of wine. Adam cautiously undoes his shirt, revealing the white v-neck underneath. He rolls up his sleeves, checking to make sure they were secure.

Maryam comes back with her glass of wine. “Much better.”

Adam huffs. Just because his sense of fashion would have him looking like a middle-aged professor at 18 (his sister’s words), did not give everyone else the right to interfere.

Adam’s phone buzzes, and he reaches into his back pocket to answer it. It was an email from one of the Garrison. That was strange, Adam thinks. The semester officially ended at 6 P.M. that day. It was too late to be news about class and too early to be news about grades. He banishes a sudden intrusive thought about being booted from the program due to budget cuts. That was highly unlikely.

He opens the email.

 _To Cadet Walker_ , it read.

_I would like to inform you that I have finished grading you for my Basics of Flight course. You will be pleased to know that you received an A for the class. From this point on, nothing you or I do can change that._

Adam read on, wondering what she was trying to tell him.

_As you might know, the relationship between an advisor and their student goes beyond the normal student-teacher relationship. Advisees often seek life advice from their advisors. As such, I happen to know that my TA, Shiro, likes you very much._

Adam choked, staring at his screen in shock.

_As I said before, nothing you or I can do will change your grade in my class, but given that I know Shiro is romantically inept, perhaps you might consider asking him out?_

_Happy holidays and kind regards,_

_Diya Singh, PhD_

_P.S. I think you would make a lovely couple._

Oh, Adam thinks faintly, she is trying to tell him to ask out her TA. God, what kind of school was the Garrison?

A knock sounds at the door, startling Adam out of his thoughts and nearly out of his mortal coil. He stuffs his phone in his pocket, to be thought about later (or never). He sooths down the wrinkles in his shirt and went to open the door with a smile, only to be face to face with Takashi Shirogane.

Shiro looks good, even in the dim light from the light bulb on the landing. Shadows cascade across his face, throwing his eyes into sharp relief. Then, he smiles.

“Hi, Adam.” His eyes seemed to search his face for something.

Then Matt pushes his way out from behind Shiro, huffing about how it was getting cold out. Shiro looks at Adam apologetically before handing over the wine that he brought. Adam doesn't hover as Shiro bent down to take off his boots, but he was definitely watching when Shiro took off his leather jacket, leaving him in only a pale grey v-neck t-shirt.  Adam is ace, but those biceps are works of art. He wants to trace them with his fingers then chisel them into marble.

Adam turns away, putting the wine in the fridge. When he shuts the refrigerator door and straightens up, Shiro is on the other side. Adam startles.

Shiro smiles apologetically. “Sorry.”

“Do you want anything to drink?” Adam asks, once his heart has recovered.

“I was hoping to get a glass for the wine,” Shiro says. Adam nods, turning around to get the right cabinet in their narrow kitchen. He could kick himself. It doesn’t matter what Abby or Maryam or his fucking professor think, it doesn’t matter what he might have overheard- this is the most awkward conversation of Adam’s life. More awkward than every time this semester he’s told a well-meaning member of College Students for Christ that he’s Jewish and not interested.

Adam grabs two glasses and sets them down on the counter without looking at Shiro. He opens the fridge and stares. It shouldn’t be a hard decision to make (just pick one, Walker), but he’s absolutely stymied.

“Is something wrong?” Shiro asks.

Adam hesitates, but the words come spilling out anyway. “I’m just not sure if it’s rude to offer you your own wine. If I do, do I seem cheap? If I don’t, am I saying it’s not good enough? I don’t know what you like. It’s possible that you brought your own favorite, but it’s also possible that you brought something you have no preference for at all, and quite frankly, I am at a crossroads here.”

He turns around, afraid of what he’ll find. It’s probably entirely too much thought to put into picking a bottle of wine for a college party.

Shiro has his hand covering his mouth, the other perched on his hip. Adam sees his shoulders bounce.

“Oh, laugh it up,” he says in faux-irritation.

“No,” Shiro says, bringing his hand down to reveal a broad smile. “It’s sweet. Even if-“

“I put too much thought into it?” Adam finishes. “Yeah. I’ll just pick the colder one, shall I?”

After that, with the ice well and thoroughly broken and assisted by alcohol, Adam actually enjoys the party. Xiao Dan and Yelena arrive shortly, and the party goes into full swing. The party-goers come together and split apart, flowing and reshaping themselves into conversational groups as often as they see fit.

He should have seen it coming when he saw Yelena and Matt snickering in the corner while Shiro chatted with Maryam. He should have seen it coming with Matt sat himself to his right and then announced that they were going to play truth or dare counterclockwise.

“Truth,” Adam says, like a fool. Somehow, he is still blind-sided when Matt turns to him with a wicked smile on his face.

“Do you like Shiro? Like, like-like him?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows embarrassingly.

Adam presses his face into his hands and groans. Everyone is invested in his love life tonight.

“ _Matt,_ ” Shiro hisses from two spaces over.

“We agreed that we wouldn’t ask anything embarrassing!” That’s Maryam. Good, dependable Maryam. “Remember, Adam, you can ask for a new question if you don’t want to answer!” He’s so lucky to have her for a roommate. She knows about things like limits and boundaries.

Adam looks up from his hands. He can feel the blood rushing in his cheeks and the back of his neck and the tip of his ears.

Shiro’s face is turned down towards the floor, but his eyes are across the room, far away from Adam. And that is a state of affairs he will not tolerate.

“Ye-“ he starts out too quietly. He clears his throat. “Yes,” he says, sounding stronger, more sure of himself.

Shiro whips his gaze to Adam, his lips parted slightly in shock. He continued to Adam’s gaze, even while Matt hooted and Yelena elbowed Shiro in his side.

His smile started out small and unsure, but then it seemed to spread across his face until Adam could tell he was having to work to hold it back.

Yelena choses a dare next and Adam has her stand on one leg for as long as it takes her to finish her drink. She turns to Shiro, looming one-leggedly over him, drink in hand, and asks,

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Shiro says, perhaps thinking to spare himself the same fate as Adam. They can talk about this- them- in their own time.

Shiro is wrong.

“I dare you to kiss Adam!” Yelena crows. Shiro and Adam only stare at each other across her for several silent seconds.

“New game!” Yelena announces, setting her foot down but not her drink. “Seven minutes in heaven!” She scoops Shiro up by his elbow, even as Matt is shoving at Adam. They push and cram, ignoring Maryam’s protests (“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to! Guys, this isn’t what we agreed to! Consent!”) and the fact that Shiro could have stopped them if he really wanted to.

They end up not in a closet, but in Adam’s bedroom. Well. At least he cleaned it before the party.

Shiro stays awkwardly by the door as Adam sits on the bed. The awkward tension in the room is dancing on his nerves, and he can barely stand it.

He decides to take the initiative. “You can sit or stand. I’m not going to do anything. But I think we should talk.” He says it with what he hopes is a welcoming smile on his face.

Shiro’s shoulders relax and he looks less like a statue. He cautiously sits on the bed a few feet from Adam. Leaving room for Jesus, Adam thinks, and then has to stifle a snort.

“I do like you,” he says, not quite meeting Adam’s eyes. That’s okay. Direct eye contact is awkward. To be frank, Adam’s had about enough of that tonight.

“But you don’t want to kiss me right now,” Adam states, relieved.

Shiro’s eyes light up. “Yes! I- Wait, that sounded-“ His hands start to lift from the bed frantically.

Adam laughs. “It sounded fine. I don’t want to kiss you right now, either. I, uh-“ he looks at the corner of his ceiling, where the walls meet- “I don’t like kissing. At all. Not like, deep kissing. With mucosal membranes. And tongues.”

He takes a deep breath because he’s rambling and revealing more than he wants to in the moment.

“I’m asexual. Is that going to be a problem?”

Shiro loses a rigidity Adam didn’t know he still hand. “Me, too!”

“Oh, thank God,” Adam breathes. He knows that if this is going to work they’ll still have to talk about what they want. They can’t assume everything about each other just because they have the same orientation, but in the moment, it’s a relief.

Shiro smiles. “So… no mucosal membranes?” he asks, just a hint of teasing to his voice. Adam nods.

“How about a date?” Adam looks at the bedsheet and then back up to Shiro’s face. Genuine emotional conversations are hard.

“I want to get to know you,” Shiro says. “You’ve got the makings of a great pilot, and-“

Adam raises an eyebrow. He doesn’t think his piloting potential has any bearing on his relationships.

“Are you my TA? Or are we talking about a date, maybe?”

Shiro blushes, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. “I- sorry. I’m not… good at this.” Adam thinks back to Dr. Singh’s email. Romantically inept, indeed.

“When I see you,” Shiro starts again, “You seem so centered and grounded, like you’re standing on bedrock. And that makes me want to be beside you, to be there-“ his eyes scan the room as he searches for words- “and be your support beam.” That is, quite possibly, one of the weirdest and sweetest things anyone has said to him, but he thinks he understands.

“I want to be your support beam, too,” he says, before he remembers that they haven’t even had a date yet. “Or I at least want to try,” he says, reeling it back.

Shiro beams, and this time, he doesn’t try to stifle it. It spreads across his whole face, stretching the corners of his mouth until they almost reach his eyes. He could be a supernova like this, Adam wouldn’t be able to look away.

Shiro glances down at the bedspread. “How do you feel about hand holding?” he asks, looking back up at Adam.

Oh, he thinks. He wasn’t looking at the bedspread. He was looking at his hand. Adam looks down. He hasn’t paid much attention to his own hand during this conversation, but it’s laid there innocently the whole time, scant inches from Shiro’s. Adam thinks back to the conversation he overheard in Shiro’s office- about how much Shiro likes his hands- and wonders if it’s been tempting him the whole time.

He peeks at Shiro.

“I like hand holding,” he says. Shiro reaches gently across the bed, taking Adam’s hand in his. He twists it so he can twine their fingers together. Adam can feel the rapid race of their pulses as the veins in their palms press together.

Shiro’s hand is broader than Adam’s, for all that he’s more deft at the pilot’s yoke. Adam’s fingers are longer and darker where the fold over his knuckles the bones of his hand. Holding Shiro’s hand in his, Adam feels… not protected, but safe. Steady. Shiro’s hand is warm and sturdy- like a support beam, Adam thinks.

When they come out of Adam’s room hand in hand, and their friends cheer. Even Maryam.


End file.
